One last wish (short story)
by blkmgcwmn
Summary: After delivering the Deadra heart to Markarth's blacksmith as agreed, it was now safe for Nephelle to travel to any nearby Orc Strongholds in the country. On her departure to a nearby stronghold, she had chosen Faendal from Riverwood to be by her side, and to witness when two souls hopefully would be joined in the eyes of Mara.


After delivering the Deadra heart to Markarth's blacksmith as agreed, it was now safe for Nephelle to travel to any nearby Orc Strongholds in the country. On her departure to a nearby stronghold, she had chosen Faendal from Riverwood to be by her side. They always had a great friendship since they met and the bond between them has only grown stronger after she helped him with somewhat of a love affair.

Skyrim's Nordic landscape was breathtaking and stunning as usual. They made themselves ready at Markarth's general store and went further east. A small path from the main road was where they were heading; a small path to Dushnikh Yal where her love of life was settled.

Ghorbash the Iron Hand was the name of her loved one. An Orc, former member of the Imperial Legion and brother of Chief Burguk. She got goose bumps at the thought of him. She always felt an indescribable heat in her body and a pounding heart in her chest. She could not wait but to see him again, to see his masculine traits, the strong jaw, dark skin and dark eyes. When serving the Imperial Legion, he was both curious and adventurous. He traveled across Skyrim with a group of Imperial warriors and archers, encountered explainable and unexplainable things and camped in the most beautiful scenic areas of the Nordic land. Nephelle had her eyes on him and his Imperial companions at a distance outside Whiterun a long time ago. She was captivated by him and therefore never dared to take the next step. He therefore did not know her and never got to know her. After years of planning and searching for him and his whereabouts, she finally ended in Markarth with the Jarl's blacksmith who knew of his existence and would only help her pursue the love of her dreams if she could get him a daedra's Heart for his special ordering. And after a prolonged and a very tiring quest, she finally found what she needed, took advantage of the nearest stables and went straight to Markarth to deliver.

* * *

The day had finally arrived and it was a huge honor for Faendal to witness this particular day when two souls hopefully would be joined in the eyes of Mara. But he still had his doubts and was a bit skeptical about the way Nephelle handled this situation. This so-called Ghorbash the Iron Hand was not aware of her existence. And Nephelle didn't had no idea about his preferences! Was he even into Dunmer women? Was he married? She knew *nothing* but still chose to blindly follow her heart.

As they both went down the path from the main road there was suddenly a small stone bridge over a narrow river ahead. A large and beautiful tree stood near. But the closer they got to the bridge, the slower Nephelle went. She suddenly doubted how to go about this and she could suddenly see the situation in a logical manner. What was she doing? How could she introduce herself facing a man who barely knew her? How could she ever have any hopes that he would feel the same as she did when she was not even of the same race? Although she doubted, she tried hard to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. To follow your heart is always the right thing to do. And she knew they had something in common: since he was a former warrior for the Imperial Legion, he had to be brave - she was brave. He had traveled through Skyrim with a group of warriors and archers and was therefore adventurous and possibly spontaneous, so was she. And so did Nephelle review the things she knew about her chosen on in order to compare him to her.

"Why are you slowing down?" Faendal asked as he reached her. "I ... I just needed to enjoy this," Nephelle lied, "it's so beautiful... and so quiet". Before Faendal could continue the conversation, there was something that caught his attention. Nephelle noticed and looked in the same direction. Under the large and beautiful tree by the stone bridge, it looked like there was a pile of bloody rags. Nephelle decided to approach the tree and the bloody rags with a certain caution and while being aware of her surroundings. As she approached the bloody clothes she saw that it was a female Breton. She had several arrows shot into the side of her upper body and had bled profusely. Nephelle sighed, "another victim". She noticed the Breton's little leather purse hanging on the side of her leather belt and thought that there had to be some gold. She reached for the leather purse but immediately took her hand away as the female Breton sighed out loud. "She's alive!" Faendal exclaimed while Nephelle was petrified. While Faendal started looking for a small healing potion in his backpack, the female Breton grabbed a bloody folded note in her dress' strap before handing it over to Nephelle. And when she, with a puzzled look, received the bloody piece of folded paper, the female Breton laid her head back in the rich, green grass, stared up at the big tree's lush treetop and was silently gone. "What's that?" Faendal asked as he closed his backpack again. Nephelle shrugged, opened the note and read for herself,

_"If you are reading this, then I am most likely dead. A group of bandits ransacked my home and took most everything valuable I own. The worst is they took a pendant that has been in my family for many generations. Most of my family is dead, so that pendant was the last connection I had with any of them. I am going after those scoundrels and getting my pendant back, even if..."_

An arrow suddenly flew past Nephelle and Faendal. They both turned at once, bow and swords were drawn. Two lawless bandits stood further up the hill by the little path they had taken. One roared and slammed his wooden shield towards his chest while the other once again tightened his grip on his bow to aim again. The belligerent thug with shield and sword jumped towards them both. Faendal tightened the grip on his bow, aimed, and fired. The arrow he fired hit so hard into the wooden shield that it now was stuck in the front. The archer had fired his arrow at Nephelle once again, as she easily managed to dodge it with a single slash with her sword.

The bandit was finally close to Faendal. He now stood ready with his sword and dagger towards a strong blade and a big shield and almost danced past the many aggressive and sloppy attempts to hit him. But as aggressive and careless this bandit was in his attempts to hit Faendal, the more violent he became, as if he was hit by an unimaginable anger that caused him to completely rage out - Nephelle had to help him! She directed her attention towards the aggressive berserker, and she managed to perform a combination attack with both her steel dagger and sword. She managed to catch his attention, and she managed to turn the shield out of his hand. "DARK ELF!," he exclaimed, "You should know your place!". He suddenly rushed against Nephelle with his firm hands on his unusually big sword. In trying to make a power attack, it was now possible for Faendal to slash into the side of the brutal man. He quickly bent down under him, with a large open and bloody wound in his side, "ARGH!". After this, it was now possible for Nephelle to pull in his hair,, pull his head up and cut his throat. "THE OTHER!" Faendal shouted as the archer on the hill unarmed himself and ran off. "Leave him!" Nephelle commanded and kicked the deceased bandit away from her, "They got what they wanted."

* * *

Nephelle took the time to wipe off the blood from her sword with a piece of cloth. Faendal began to loot the deceased for valuables, stopped searching and started looking at something. Nephelle looked in the same direction as him and quickly noticed a beautiful gold amulet around the bandit's neck. Its purple and dark blue stones reflected in the sun's rays. Suddenly, it dawned her what the amulet was and how important it had been to someone. "It's beautiful," Faendal said and carefully took the necklace off. "It would fit extremely well for a day like this," he continued and went to Nephelle. "In the eyes of Mara, two souls are united. Your hands are his, and his hands are yours. The purple stones for good judgment, for spiritual perfection. Purple stands for peace of mind, the color of meditation". He carefully placed the necklace in Nephelle's hands, "The symbol of magic, mystery and royalty. This is the color of purpose". Faendal started to notice his good friend's wet eyes, but decided to continue his motivational speech. "And the blue stone," he continued, "Is the color of the sky and sea. It is often associated with stability, fidelity, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, destiny and truth. This is beneficial for your body and your mind, my elf sister," - "But the necklace does not belong to me," Nephelle interrupted. Faendal immediately stopped his motivational speech and looked worried, "What do you mean? You killed him, you earned it! What's wrong? Talk to me!" And quite unexpectedly, many tears came from Nephelle's bright eyes. Faendal was at his wits' end. She seemed so happy, but why?

"This amulet does not belong to me. It belongs to a woman who believed in herself. A woman who would even die to archive her goals in life. It belonged to a woman whose death I had never thought would affect me. It belongs to a woman who died before our eyes, but with a smile and a confident belief in the fact that her family heirloom would be brought back safely". Nephelle turned to the deceased Breton woman and continued, "It belonged to a woman who died in the most beautiful surroundings and has given me a renewed faith to continue. To continue to follow my heart, although my mind says something second". Faendal lit up as if a revelation had reached him. He chose to resort with a confident nod at the sight of his dear elf sister, who now squatted by the deceased Breton and was in the process of gently putting the necklace around her neck where it belonged. His skepticism and uncertainty when it came to Nephelle's situation was suddenly gone, and his prayers were suddenly and unexpectedly answered by the seven gods themselves. What Nephelle was going to do was the right thing. And after making a very inspirational and spiritual process, and carried the deceased female Breton closer to the large and beautiful tree's broad trunk, which she now peacefully sat up against towards the playful small river, Nephelle and Faendal continued on towards happiness.

Nephelle chose to keep the bloody folded paper she received, and repeated the written words over and over again as they travelled,

_If you are reading this, then I am most likely dead. A group of bandits ransacked my home and took most everything valuable I own. The worst is they took a pendant that has been in my family for many generations. Most of my family is dead, so that pendant was the last connection I had with any of them. I am going after those scoundrels and getting my pendant back, even if it is the death of me._


End file.
